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And now he’s taken it even further. One damn little word. One little promise, and I’m next to him in his damn precious BMW (I’m pretty sure he cares about me more than the car, but he sure as hell baby’s the car more than me), sitting on a towel (I’ve gotten the belt before for getting the leather wet). I’m wearing 4” black pumps Hatch bought for me, black thigh-highs he also bought, and a little French maid’s outfit he presented to me not half an hour ago. It’s at least one size too small--probably closer to two. It even came with white gloves and whatever the hell you call the white, lacey thing in my hair. My breasts are threatening to pop out of the top, and it barely covers the bottom of my ass when I’m standing.He had asked me on Tuesday if I remembered Saturday’s ‘Anything’. Told me that on Thursday, he’d be taking me up on that. And now it’s Thursday, and my heart’s trying to explode. We are driving somewhere—I’m already lost with the adrenaline running so hard—his hand. Finally, screwing my courage to the sticking point, my heart hammering, my mouth dry, I went up the walk and rang the doorbell, hoping maybe Carl would like to go for a walk with me.I kept asking myself what I was afraid of. The worst he could do was tell me to go away, right?The brave man (or woman) dies but once, the coward dies many times, I thought as I waited on the porch, slowly dying.Then his sister, Dee, opened the door, and I felt liked I'd been given a reprieve at the last minute. I didn't really know her. She's four years younger than Carl, I knew, but no more bratty than the average 11 year old, I guess."Uh, is Carl home?" I asked nervously.She led me into the living room to wait. "I'll get him," she offered."Thanks." I was left with a puzzling image as she practically leaped out of the room with what sounded like a soft cackle of glee.A few moments later she was back, Carl following her into the living room. He was naked, and from the look on his face, and his sister's, I.
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